The end of a semester and the antsiness that comes...
It's antsiness, I assume. The semester ended, all my papers are turned in, and I am slowly waiting. I wanted to write more about how my heart is breaking in Baltimore, how my city was on fire, how I was sad/proud/disappointed/enraged/relieved. The only emotion neither Fidget or I have is fear. This is our city.
But instead, I woke up this morning feeling antsy. Itchy. Wanting to celebrate that it's done, we only have one semester left. I'm going to go to Florida for 2.5 weeks to take care of some business with my parents (Sadiecat is coming, too!) and hoping my brain will fully reset. This semester hasn't been particularly taxing; I've had more issues of boredom that anything else. It was probably mid-April when my brain was like, "Okay, school, we're done now." I was originally excited about some of the classes, but it just ended. My MFT class was fascinating, but that ended at the end of March since it was accelerated and a weekend course. I learned a lot from that course, but I think Fidget's happy it's over since I'm no longer analyzing how we were each raised, the quality of our own relationship, and how we're going to raise children. Dedicating 14 weeks of your life to something is just plain arduous, especially if your brain is not fully up to par. I had three other classes:Personality, which was originally interesting, but turned into two-ish hours a week of the professor instructing us about some other theory that didn't incorporate the DSM-5. I had originally wanted the class because all of my experience is in Borderline. At this point, I can only determine that Fidget's stepmom may have been negativistic. He was a smart dude that knew he was a smart dude. I'm debating if he's even going to read our papers.
Anxiety Treatment was an advanced course in counseling that I thought I could use in my future. However, it became monotonous as the anxiety disorders all have the similar cycle. There was more than one time I looked at my friend behind me like "Sup. Wasn't paying attention. What do you want to talk about?" I began having issues because this class was clearly geared toward privilege. I couldn't imagine teaching someone about the anxiety cycle when they were homeless, looking for work, and had no benefits.
Career Development is a class I hate to say anything negatively about since the professor was a dream. It was cross-listed with the Pastoral Counseling department, and there was such a sense of peace and "oneness" within those classrooms. I'm sure I gleaned some things to study for the exam, and I did all of my papers, but just so done with everything.
I have both a sense of ennui about it being over and then the antsiness that comes with it. I'm alone today, hanging out on the Internet and trying to see what I want to do. In truth, I want nothing. But I want to celebrate the end of the term. Fidget is beaten and broken from work and does not have the bandwidth to get excited about anything. While we've settled into this comfortable, long-term existence, I have this sense of antsiness that he can't be a part of. He appreciates what I'm doing, he listens to me as I ramble, but he can't celebrate.
I fly to Florida on Wednesday, taking Sadie to meet her "grandparents." I know I need to pack for tonight's trip into Philly to go to Hunny's bridal shower tomorrow. I should probably clean the kitchen. But this sense of disconnect has me antsy and texting friends at 1000 asking if someone could yell at me. The excitement that was lost, and I was periodically amused by. Then the guilt that I was amused by it, instead of taking it as a dream someone had. Then the processing with Fidget about what that means and his saying he "failed" me as a partner. And more of my own guilt with that. It's tiring and irritating and frustrating.
Is it Baltimore? Am I more in tune with what's happening because of the riots and the protests? My city burned and my heart was heavy because I knew those areas so well. When the helicopter showed the streets, I knew their zip code. I specifically know that CVS in West Baltimore quite well, driving past there almost daily for work for the past five and a half years.
I've been rereading past entries, trying to find something and realized how ridiculous and awesome my life was (apparently, I can't find it. Maybe it was an email somewhere. In short, when I had the Franken-hand, I remember a man wishing me that my hand got better outside of the CVS that burned in West Baltimore). I sent a message to Tuna Can Man stating that school is dumb, and if he'd put us up for the night in his apartment, we'd blow a hundred dollars on booze for a fabulous party. I had something similar with a newer friend yesterday, texting that I needed to meet new folks, get D-R-N-U-K, and roll around on the floor. Just so antsy, wanting something different, wanting a new story.
This graduate school business is too long. Bored now. I need to go ahead and graduate, then resume the craziness. Fidget can roll with it- you figure we began dating because of an awesome story. Maybe have a night where the city lights are the last thing we see before we pass out. When I wake up in a Hilton again. When I stumble around the pier. When there's an ice luge and I don't have a choice not to partake. When we're no longer this long-term, establish omg-so-in-love couple and are a couple of partiers that sporadically kiss when gallivanting around the bar.
I miss gallivanting around the bar. I fully do recognize that Fidget's presence calmed me the hell down. But can't we have a night where things get strange again?
I really have always excelled at strange...
... just take the card, the money's good.
But instead, I woke up this morning feeling antsy. Itchy. Wanting to celebrate that it's done, we only have one semester left. I'm going to go to Florida for 2.5 weeks to take care of some business with my parents (Sadiecat is coming, too!) and hoping my brain will fully reset. This semester hasn't been particularly taxing; I've had more issues of boredom that anything else. It was probably mid-April when my brain was like, "Okay, school, we're done now." I was originally excited about some of the classes, but it just ended. My MFT class was fascinating, but that ended at the end of March since it was accelerated and a weekend course. I learned a lot from that course, but I think Fidget's happy it's over since I'm no longer analyzing how we were each raised, the quality of our own relationship, and how we're going to raise children. Dedicating 14 weeks of your life to something is just plain arduous, especially if your brain is not fully up to par. I had three other classes:Personality, which was originally interesting, but turned into two-ish hours a week of the professor instructing us about some other theory that didn't incorporate the DSM-5. I had originally wanted the class because all of my experience is in Borderline. At this point, I can only determine that Fidget's stepmom may have been negativistic. He was a smart dude that knew he was a smart dude. I'm debating if he's even going to read our papers.
Anxiety Treatment was an advanced course in counseling that I thought I could use in my future. However, it became monotonous as the anxiety disorders all have the similar cycle. There was more than one time I looked at my friend behind me like "Sup. Wasn't paying attention. What do you want to talk about?" I began having issues because this class was clearly geared toward privilege. I couldn't imagine teaching someone about the anxiety cycle when they were homeless, looking for work, and had no benefits.
Career Development is a class I hate to say anything negatively about since the professor was a dream. It was cross-listed with the Pastoral Counseling department, and there was such a sense of peace and "oneness" within those classrooms. I'm sure I gleaned some things to study for the exam, and I did all of my papers, but just so done with everything.
I have both a sense of ennui about it being over and then the antsiness that comes with it. I'm alone today, hanging out on the Internet and trying to see what I want to do. In truth, I want nothing. But I want to celebrate the end of the term. Fidget is beaten and broken from work and does not have the bandwidth to get excited about anything. While we've settled into this comfortable, long-term existence, I have this sense of antsiness that he can't be a part of. He appreciates what I'm doing, he listens to me as I ramble, but he can't celebrate.
I fly to Florida on Wednesday, taking Sadie to meet her "grandparents." I know I need to pack for tonight's trip into Philly to go to Hunny's bridal shower tomorrow. I should probably clean the kitchen. But this sense of disconnect has me antsy and texting friends at 1000 asking if someone could yell at me. The excitement that was lost, and I was periodically amused by. Then the guilt that I was amused by it, instead of taking it as a dream someone had. Then the processing with Fidget about what that means and his saying he "failed" me as a partner. And more of my own guilt with that. It's tiring and irritating and frustrating.
Is it Baltimore? Am I more in tune with what's happening because of the riots and the protests? My city burned and my heart was heavy because I knew those areas so well. When the helicopter showed the streets, I knew their zip code. I specifically know that CVS in West Baltimore quite well, driving past there almost daily for work for the past five and a half years.
I've been rereading past entries, trying to find something and realized how ridiculous and awesome my life was (apparently, I can't find it. Maybe it was an email somewhere. In short, when I had the Franken-hand, I remember a man wishing me that my hand got better outside of the CVS that burned in West Baltimore). I sent a message to Tuna Can Man stating that school is dumb, and if he'd put us up for the night in his apartment, we'd blow a hundred dollars on booze for a fabulous party. I had something similar with a newer friend yesterday, texting that I needed to meet new folks, get D-R-N-U-K, and roll around on the floor. Just so antsy, wanting something different, wanting a new story.
This graduate school business is too long. Bored now. I need to go ahead and graduate, then resume the craziness. Fidget can roll with it- you figure we began dating because of an awesome story. Maybe have a night where the city lights are the last thing we see before we pass out. When I wake up in a Hilton again. When I stumble around the pier. When there's an ice luge and I don't have a choice not to partake. When we're no longer this long-term, establish omg-so-in-love couple and are a couple of partiers that sporadically kiss when gallivanting around the bar.
I miss gallivanting around the bar. I fully do recognize that Fidget's presence calmed me the hell down. But can't we have a night where things get strange again?
I really have always excelled at strange...
... just take the card, the money's good.